Nothing Else Matters
by Amy Renee
Summary: Both brothers are struggling with the events of the past year and the rift that's come between them. Dean is angry and Sam just wants to make things right. CURRENTLY ON HOLD because I feel this story is a complete mess.
1. Chapter 1

_The title is in reference to the Metallica song because I think it's so fitting for the brothers, especially with the rift that has grown between them. No matter what has happened they are brothers first and foremost, and I think they need some reminding of that._

_This is the first time I've used lyrics in a fic so let me know if it works._

_Disclaimer: I don't own them._

* * *

Nothing Else Matters

Sam sat on the bed of the dark motel room in silence, thinking. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. Dean had gone out about three hours ago. He vaguely wondered when he would be coming back, or _if_ he would be coming back.

It used to be if Dean went out it was only for an hour or two, unless of course he picked up a girl. That may have required a little extra time, but a lifetime of keeping tabs on each other when their father had been on hunts leaving them by themselves was a hard habit to break, so Dean would usually call to let Sam know he'd be a while longer.

Dean would usually tell Sam where he was going and ask him if he wanted to come. Since it was usually to a bar, Sam typically declined, choosing instead to do research for whatever hunt they were on, earning a scoff from his older brother and a comment like, "You're such a girl." Sam would roll his eyes and inwardly laugh at his older sibling. That was Dean. That was then.

Now Dean would just leave without saying anything or Sam would just get an "I'm going out" thrown at him as Dean walked out and shut the door. It just reminded Sam of how messed up things were between them now, and how it was his fault. He had screwed up royally and what hurt worse than not being able to forgive himself was Dean not being able to forgive him. Sam could live with not being able to forgive himself, but he didn't know if he could live without Dean forgiving him.

Yet he knew he didn't deserve forgiveness. Some things can't be forgiven, and he was pretty sure that bringing on the end of the world had to be number one on that list.

He had betrayed his big brother, the person who had given everything to protect him his whole life without a complaint or a second thought. He had chosen a demon over him, choosing to believe in one of the things they had grown up to hate and fight, who was inhuman and manipulative, over the man he used to think could do anything when they were kids.

At the time he kept telling himself it wasn't true that he was stabbing Dean in the back. He told himself that a lot of things weren't true. Deep down, he knew better. He had been stupid and selfish. He had brought about Hell on Earth, opened the door for Lucifer himself. How messed up was that? And every step of the way Dean had tried to warn him, but Sam convinced himself he was doing what was right, that his intentions were good - despite downing the demon blood and lying and using the powers the bastard demon who had destroyed his family gave him - because he would kill Lillith. He would make her suffer for making him watch as Dean had been ripped to shreds. He would stop the Apocalypse. Instead he had started it.

He had just wanted to take Azazel's poison and use it against him. He couldn't rid his blood of it so he had decided to make something good of it. He had accomplished the opposite. He had played right into what _they_ wanted. Azazel would be proud. The thought made bile rise in his throat.

_"I've got demon blood in me, Dean! This disease pumping through my veins, and I can't ever rip it out or scrub it clean! I'm a whole new level of freak! And I'm just trying to take this - this curse... and make something good out of it. Because I have to."_

Maybe his intentions were good at first, but he just couldn't see how anymore. He may not have known his actions would free Lucifer, but deep down he had known what that road was paved with, and the road to Hell was paved with good intentions.

_"Slippery slope, brother. Just wait and see. Because it's gonna get darker and darker, and God knows where it ends."_

_"I know what you did to that demon, Sam. I can feel what's inside you. If you think you have good intentions, think again."_

A chill ran down his spine. He had hurt and betrayed everyone he had ever cared about. And if it wasn't for him, none of this would have happened. If it wasn't for him his mother would still be alive, his father would still be alive, Dean would have gotten to grow up normal. Why did it have to be him? He had asked Azazel, Ruby, and even Lucifer the same question. The answer had been the same:

_"It had to be you."_

So this really was his destiny after all. A couple of years ago his so-called destiny was distant, undetermined, and somewhat unreal. As afraid as he was of what he could supposedly become after learning what his father had told Dean: _"He said I might have to kill you, Sammy," _he had thought he could change it. Once again, that was then. Now his course of action had made his worst fear true; he had become something evil, and he had _let_ it happen. All he had ever wanted was to be normal and he let himself truly become a freak. No. Worse: a monster. He was no better than the evil things he and Dean had hunted all their lives. Gordon and the others had been right all along.

_"You're not human, Sam."_

He thought of how disappointed his father would be in him. Maybe his father wouldn't have let him go this far. He thought about what their father had told Dean: _save him or you have to kill him_. His Dad knew what Sam could become. Had he always known? Maybe his father would have killed him before it had come to this. Dean couldn't do it. He had said he would rather die.

Sam wondered if Dean would be so hesitant now. Sometimes it truly felt like Dean hated him. He could sense his brother's disappointment and resentfulness towards him. It practically rolled off of him sometimes. Sam couldn't blame him. He deserved it. He had betrayed Dean, and when he had needed his brother the most.

_"You were the one that I depended on the most. And you let me down in ways that I can't even..."_

His whole life Dean had always been there for Sam, and Sam had abandoned him, trusted Ruby over him. How could he have done that? He had always trusted Dean more than anyone, trusted him with his life, and he went against his brother's wish and teamed up with a demon and used his abilities.

That was bad enough without adding the demon blood into the mix. He knew it was wrong, but it had been necessary to strengthen his powers in order to kill Lillith. That was a lie he had told himself. It had made him feel powerful, and for once in his life, stronger than his older brother. Their whole lives Dean had called the shots, and when Sam had assured Dean he knew what he was doing, to have Dean tell him he was wrong, it pissed him off. It made him want to keep pushing, because why couldn't he call the shots for once? Why couldn't he be right? With the blood he felt invincible, ready to take on anything. It was all in his head. It was just what had kept him coming back for more.

He'd been mad at Dean for not trusting him, but now he knew that he had given him no reason to. At first he had told himself he didn't tell Dean because he was trying to protect him. That was another lie. Sam had liked his little secret, made him feel tough, but he was also ashamed of what he had done and didn't want to see that shame through Dean's eyes. Dean had just been trying to look out for him like he always had.

To top it all off he had managed to free Lucifer from Hell, and if that wasn't horrifying enough now he finds out _he_ is his chosen vessel. Lucifer had told him he would say yes and let him in. Sam didn't believe he would, but the more he thought about it the more it seemed it was possible. He'd been weak before. He couldn't let that happen. He may be a monster, but he couldn't say yes to Lucifer. The fate of the world literally hung in the balance, and by saying yes, he automatically damned everyone. And he had already hurt the ones he cared about enough. He had hurt Dean enough.

He had to prove that there was still good in him, that he could still make the right decision and make his brother proud. He had told Lucifer he would kill himself before he said yes to him, and Lucifer had told him he would just bring him back. Sam didn't put it past the Devil to bluff about that, but it was the only shot he had left. Lucifer would not take him.

Coming back from his thoughts, Sam absentmindedly wiped away the wetness on his cheeks, unaware of when he started crying. He took a shaky breath and steadied himself. He knew what he had to do.


	2. Chapter 2

A few miles away Dean sat at a bar, glass of half-drank whiskey in front of him. He stared at the glass, turning it in his hands, watching the amber liquid swirl. There were several good looking women in the bar, and they were eying Dean, but Dean didn't notice them tonight. His mind was focused elsewhere. Not on the descending Apocalypse, but on his younger brother.

He knew how he was treating Sam, giving him the cold shoulder, but honestly what did Sam expect? It ate at Dean sometimes to see the guilt and anguish in Sam's eyes but he hardened himself to it. The big brother in him wanted to reach out to Sam, tell him it was okay and it wasn't his fault. But that wasn't true. Sam had made his bed and now he had to lay in it.

Sam had told him he was sorry so many times. Dean knew he truly was, but it just couldn't make up for all that had happened, for what Sam did. Deep down, Dean knew he had been partly responsible. He had kept things from Sam and pushed him away.

After Dean had come back from Hell Sam had tried to reach out to him, but Dean had shrugged him off.

_"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't remember a thing from your time down under."_

_"Dean, I just want to help."_

So he lied to Sam about not remembering Hell. If Sam could lie and keep secrets then so could he.

A familiar song began to play from the jukebox.

_I Never opened myself this way  
Life is ours, we live it our way  
All these words I don't just say  
And nothing else matters_

Dean had been doing a lot of thinking too lately. The more he thought, the more he realized not all of his anger may be because of Sam, but because of himself. Maybe he could have tried harder to be the kid's big brother again. But after coming back from The Pit Sam wasn't the same. He supposed he couldn't have expected him to be, but teaming up with Ruby and going against his dying wish for Sam not to use his powers was not what he had been expecting. He was mad as hell at Sam for being so stupid, for not listening to him. He had been right all along. Sam had trusted him his whole life but he wouldn't when it really mattered and look what came of it.

His little brother had started Armageddon.

He never would have believed that Sam would turn down the road he had. Sam had always been the most righteous person he knew. Now he found himself wondering if he should have seen it coming. Sam wasn't the Sam he had known almost all of his life anymore.

He missed him. He missed _his_ Sam. The man Sam had become during Dean's time in Hell was a stranger and sometimes there seemed to barely be a trace of the old Sam left anymore, the Sam he had given his _soul_ for. In Hell, it was the thought of Sam that kept him partially sane, the thought of him _alive, _not there with him. Maybe those months had broken them both.

Dean had tried to understand Sam's reasons after his blow-up on the roadside during the Jack Montgomery thing and after their first run in with Alistair when Dean had asked him what happened during the months he was gone. He didn't like to admit it, but he thought he might be able to understand why Sam did what he did.

Dean had been dead, and Sam had been left alone. Sam had to live with the fact his brother was in Hell and he had gone there for him. If the situation had been reversed, Dean didn't think he could have lasted. No, he knew he wouldn't have. He knew the agony of losing a brother. He knew the desperation. That's what had sent him to Hell in the first place.

Dean had lived with Sam dead for three days. Sam had lived without him for four months. Sam was desperate and alone and had nowhere to turn and no more deals to make. Maybe Sam had been in Hell after all.

_Never cared for what they do  
Never cared for what they know  
But I know_

That still didn't excuse what he had done. Their bond of trust was broken. They could both feel that invisible wedge between them, driving them further apart. Sam had lied to Dean about Ruby and his powers. Dean had lied about not remembering Hell. Whenever one tried to reach out to the other, he pushed him away. It had been a two-way street in ways, sure, but Sam had been the one to betray Dean.

Sam was the one who had said he was stronger, that Dean held him back. Even if it had been the siren venom those words, those feelings had to have come from somewhere. It had been Sam who had lied and kept secrets, who had run around with that demon bitch and tapped into his powers against Dean's wishes. It had been Sam who had had his hands wrapped around Dean's throat, squeezing, before walking out. That had hurt the worst of any of it. And then there was the addiction to sucking down demon blood and the whole Apocalypse thing... The hurt and anger, and frustration Dean felt made it easier to blame Sam for the way they were now.

It even made it easy to blame Sam for starting the Apocalypse because he was the one who let Lucifer out. That was really both of their faults. Dean had broken the first seal and Sam had broken the last. They both had known they made the wrong decision; Dean desperate enough to get off the rack that he tortured souls, Sam desperate enough to kill Lillith that he drank demon blood to feed his abilities, but neither had known the repercussions of their actions, that it meant the beginning of the end.

To make matters worse Sam was supposed to be Lucifer's vessel. Dean may be unsure of his brother at times these days but he knows Sam wouldn't willingly say yes to Lucifer, especially after everything he had done, but the possibility was there, and he had been wrong about Sam before.

Dean wasn't sure he could ever trust Sam again, no matter how much his brother tried to make things up to him. Dean still loved his brother but things could never be the way they were. Too much had happened. And Dean didn't know how else to deal with it but be angry.

_Trust I seek and I find in you  
Every day for us something new  
Open mind for a different view  
And nothing else matters_

Sighing he slapped a twenty on the bar as he stood. He put on his jacket and headed back to the motel.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean pulled into the motel's parking lot and shut off the car. He sat there a minute, looking at the door to their room, not wanting to go in right away. The air between him and Sam was tense. The feeling was awkward and disconnected. Sam's presence was suffocating. It irritated Dean. He wouldn't be able to look Sam in the eye. He hadn't been able to for a while. Just went to show how screwed up everything was.

He hoped maybe Sam was sleeping as he noticed there were no lights on in their room, but Sam had barely slept since the convent. When he did, it was restless and he would toss and turn, sometimes calling out, no doubt plagued by nightmares.

The first time Dean had noticed he had instinctively gotten out of bed and gone over to wake Sam. He had noted the sweat lining Sam's forehead and his furrowed brows, and he was reminded of the nightmares after Jessica had died. Dean had reached his hand out to shake Sam's shoulder but stopped suddenly just before he made contact. His hand hovered tentatively over Sam's shoulder before he slowly withdrew it. He watched Sam struggle in his sleep for a moment before returning to bed. He didn't fall back to sleep.

He hadn't even been able to bring himself to make physical contact with Sam. Part of him wanted Sam to suffer, to atone for what he had done. At times he didn't know how to act with this new independent calloused Sam. He didn't know how to be Sam's brother like he used to be. He couldn't be what he used to be for Sam anymore, and Sam wouldn't let him.

Dean got out of the car and made his way to the door. He turned the knob and found it unlocked. Sam must be sleeping. There was no way he would go out and leave the door unlocked with the weapons they took into the rooms with them and when they both had a key.

He shut the door behind him as he entered the room, eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness. He made his way to the table between the beds and switched on the light and noticed one thing right away: Sam wasn't there.

Dean's mind automatically came up with scenarios, immediately jumping to the worst-case ones: What if Sam had left him again? What if he had gone out to get demon blood? Dean began to anger at the thought.

Sam had seemed sincere when he told Dean he was done with it. And he didn't think Sam would want anything more to do with it after what had happened, that he had learned his lesson. Then again, Sam had lied about stopping before; he was an addict. So who knew if he had managed to fall off the wagon. While Dean knew it was Sam's addiction that caused him to be desperate and lie about it, it had been Sam's choice to do it in the first place. Dean couldn't trust Sam to make the right decision, and he just couldn't trust Sam.

Dean visually swept the room. He noticed Sam's bags were still on the floor by his bed. He decided to call him and find out where he was. He reached into his jacket pocket and dug out his cell phone to find he had one missed call and one new voicemail. Sam. He listened to the voicemail.

"_Hey, Dean_" There was something off about Sam's voice.

_"I know you probably don't want to hear this, but... uh... things haven't exactly been good between us and I know it's my fault. Nothing can take back what I did. I know I let you down..."_

Sam's voice was shaky.

_"I know you're tired of hearing it and it's probably meaningless, but... I'm sorry, Dean."_

The tone of his voice was sad and sincere.

_"I'm sorry for starting... all this, and I'm sorry for what I did to you... I just... I wish we could..."_

Dean heard Sam sigh slightly, not finishing.

_"I don't blame you for hating me, Dean, just don't hate me for what I'm going to do..."_ more firmly_, "I won't let Lucifer have me... I'm going to set things right... After it's done, you know what to do with me... Dean, just please take care of yourself, okay? And... I know we don't say it... and you probably don't even feel the same... but... "_

Sam's voice was fighting tears.

_"I love you, Dean."_ Sam had choked out the last four words and the call ended as if Sam didn't have the strength to say anymore.

Dean paled, the phone still held weakly to his ear. His heart clenched and he felt his stomach drop. A cold sweat descended over him. Echoes of the words his brother had said rang in his ears.

"…_hate me… set things right... I'm sorry... take care of yourself... I love you."_

Sam was saying goodbye.

He needed to move. His mind screamed at him to move, but his body wouldn't oblige, wouldn't cooperate. He was frozen.

_Sam._

Dean finally forced himself to move, pure adrenaline fueling him as he bolted out the door into the parking lot. Panic was setting in. Dean wasn't one to panic, especially considering what he did for a living, but this was different. It had always terrified him whenever Sam's life was threatened, but this wasn't something supernatural Dean needed to protect his little brother from. He needed to protect Sam from himself.

He didn't know where he was going, he just had to find Sam. Barely pausing to think he ran into the motel office and stopped himself on the check-in counter. The clerk stared at him somewhat wide-eyed.

"The guy I was with, room 17, have you seen him!?" Dean practically yelled.

"Are you okay, son?" The elderly clerk asked eyeing him with concern. Dean didn't have time for this.

"HAVE YOU SEEN HIM!?" He yelled in frustration.

"Uh, yeah" the older man said warily, brow furrowing "He rented out another room."

_Sam was still here!?_

"Where?" Dean demanded.

"Room 28." Dean ran out before the clerk could say anymore. He ran as fast as his legs would take him along the stretch of rooms, eyeing the room numbers on the doors as he went. _Please... don't let me be too late... please_. Finally he saw it and bolted for it. Hand outreached, he grabbed the doorknob just as his body practically collided with the door. It was locked.

"Sam!" He kicked at it. Once, twice, and it gave way with a crack.


End file.
